withering leaves ❁ yoonmin

VI

When they got home, an incoherent Jimin in their arms, Yoongi was already home, having been texted by Namjoon to just meet them back at the dorm. Jimin refused to speak to anyone, other than an "I didn't see his face". He pushed himself out of Hoseok's grip and walked to his room, not sparing anyone a single glance or word. Hoseok didn't attempt to get into their shared room that night.

Most of the band members went straight to sleep, exhausted from their trip lasting an entire day. They woke up at 5:00 yesterday morning and now it was already 4:49. Their managers were going to kill them for wasting so much sleep. And the makeup artists were going to faint at the sight of their sunken cheeks and purple eye bags. They would be a nightmare to cover up. Maybe they could just get away with wearing face masks the rest of the week?

Despite staying up the entire night and morning, Jimin had a hard time falling asleep. He blamed himself for losing his soulmate when he was right there, practically an arm's reach. He didn't even see his soulmate's face, just deep brown eyes that bore holes into his own. He could feel the food he ate at the festival, sitting heavily in his stomach and churning relentlessly.

He forced himself to keep it down, taking deep breaths and swallowing the saliva that collected in his mouth. Getting up and going to the bathroom would surely wake up the other members. You're not going to throw up, you're not going to fucking throw up, he repeated like a mantra, urging his bile down.

Jimin didn't know why he even felt like throwing up. He didn't even have much to eat at the fair, and his dinner was long enough ago that it should have been already fully digested by now.

Eventually, he felt something bubbling stubbornly up his throat and he threw off the covers, colliding with his bedroom door before forcing it open and stumbling down the hall to the bathroom. The bright fluorescent lights stung his eyes, which were used to the dark confines of his own room. Thankfully, there was no one there.

Jimin collapsed on his knees at the toilet seat, dry heaving for a few moments before he finally coughed something out. Only it wasn't food.

No, sitting in the middle of the toilet bowl was a single flower. Not a petal, but an entire, flawless yellow gladiolus. It was perfectly unharmed, despite the painful trip up Jimin's lungs. It was floating atop the water gracefully, despite the rough trip up the singer's throat, probably ripping up his precious vocal chords.

The flower was one that Jimin recognized and distinctly remembered reading about in his Aunt's botany shop. Gladiolus represents strength of character and sincerity, the yellow representing optimism and loyalty. It was quite a good representation of Jimin's character himself; extremely driven but still kind at heart. Always looking for the bright side, even if it was impossible in some scenarios.

Jimin was dying by a representation of his very own soul.

His head was pounding, his closed eyelids not helping shield his pupils from the bright light. The pounding in his chest didn't help either. Each beat of his own heart was like a strike to Jimin's temple. He needed to cough but it shook his body too much to the point where it hurt to be swayed that violently.

Hoseok ran into the doorway, obviously half-asleep, but hyper-aware of his surroundings. "Jimin!" He cried, surging forward to rub a hand comfortingly on his back. "Hyung!" He yelled for the other members, specifically Seokjin because he the eldest always knew what to do. Surely, he would have a solution for this?

Jimin scrunched up his eyes and leaned forward over the bowl, the yelling making his head hurt even more. He spit up more flowers, his mouth tasting like grass and that weird dry feeling you get when you eat un-ripe bananas. "Oh, sorry," Hoseok mumbled, wiping at Jimin's mouth with a small towel. He ignored the tears running down his own face. "You're okay, Jiminie, your Hyungs will take care of you."